


Peach Pie

by SeaStar1330



Category: When Hope Calls
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Chace, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Historical, Jealousy, Missing Scene, Orphanage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23345119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaStar1330/pseuds/SeaStar1330
Summary: Grace is humiliated after waitressing at the Stewart Ranch and doesn’t want to face Chuck. Encouragement comes from a surprising place when Lucie Clay shows up at the hotel.
Relationships: Chuck Stewart/Grace Bennett, Grace Bennett & Lucie Clay
Comments: 12
Kudos: 16





	Peach Pie

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for When Hope Calls Episode 1x4, Lost and Found. A what-if scene between 1x4 and 1x5.
> 
> Thanks to my awesome friend Sam for helping.

_Brookfield, The Canadian Northwest, 1916_

It’s a slow afternoon in the Royal Brookfield Hotel dining room, which is good news because Grace Bennett can’t tear her eyes away from the front door.

Between sips of the inn’s fragrant coffee, two ladies speak in hushed tones at a table behind her. Over at the check-in desk, Ronnie mutters under his breath while he mulls over the week’s reservations. Every few minutes, he surveys the mostly vacant dining room and sends her a nervous glance.

Grace manages a lackluster smile and sighs. Ronnie’s been jumpy this week, almost guilty, as though he regrets sending her to the Stewart Ranch to serve Tess’s guests at her annual Ranchers Coffee. Usually, he watches his pennies like a hawk, but twice he’d offered her an extra break during her shift, and last night he sent her home with a beautiful vanilla raspberry torte. Ronnie had no reason to feel bad, though. Grace had been paid double for working at the ranch, and the decision to help had been hers alone.

Three days ago, Grace fled the scene of Tess’s party, holding in hot, angry tears until she made it down the porch steps and across the yard. Ever since then, Chuck had continued coming to the hotel every day around lunchtime. His visits usually made her heart race in all the right ways, but now it’s more of a sickening thud. The party had opened an awkward chasm between them, and Grace doesn’t know how to cross it. At the first sign of his easy smile, she’d duck out of the dining room and run back to the kitchen to help Lou, leaving Ronnie to wait tables.

She hasn’t been able to face him since her complete humiliation at the ranch.

The peach pie she’d brought to Tess’s party had been intended for him, a surprise after he told it was his favorite dessert. She’d been darn proud of that pie, had made it from scratch all on her own. Even Eleanor, an expert baker, had praised the one she left at home for the children. But after spending an entire day scouting out a recipe, buying the freshest peaches, and rolling a delicate lattice crust, Chuck hadn’t even seen it, let alone eaten a bite.

Tess had ordered told her to slice Chuck’s pie up for her guests, stinging Grace’s pride something awful. Inviting her to serve at the party to make some extra cash for the orphanage had been a clever trap to show her she didn’t belong, and Grace had walked right into it. Tess’s condescension was a clear message—_stay away from my son._

And Tess had done her best to make sure Grace did. Every time Chuck turned in her direction at the party, she was a human blockade; pushing Grace to refill coffee cups and pulling Chuck away to talk to other, more important people. With Tess’s sharp eyes on her and a cluster of coffee cups waiting to be refilled, she had no choice but to keep her interactions with Chuck short and distant.

Grace knew the way she was acting seemed unfair when they’d gone on such a lovely outing together the day before the party. She wanted to take him aside and explain, but with people waiting to be served dessert, there wasn’t time. How could she expect him to understand, anyway? Chuck was a hard worker with a huge heart, but he’d also grown up in a world of money and privilege where setting your mind to a dream meant it came true. 

Until recently, Grace had been no more than a government stipend number and an unwanted mouth to feed. Six short months ago, she and her sister, Lillian, became a family again. Born out of a desire to give the displaced children in their charge all the love, warmth, and family Grace had missed, together they’d founded New Hope Orphanage on the south edge of town.

The sisters had lost her parents when she was five and Lillian seven. They started out in the same orphanage, but it wasn’t long before they were separated by a system unconcerned with keeping families united. After a year, Grace found herself facing the future alone, the only connection to her lost family a broken music box from her fifth birthday and a tattered photograph of her standing next to her big sister. Later, Grace learned Lillian had been adopted by Fredrick and Regina Walsh and grown up here in Brookfield. Grace never knew Lillian had been looking for her until she received a letter from Lillian at the Hamilton boarding house where she lived and worked. Enclosing train and stagecoach passes, Lillian had asked Grace to leave the city and make a home with her in Brookfield.

And so Grace packed her small valise of belongs and joined her sister. Family, her best friend Eve always said, is the ultimate dream. But shadows of the past still haunt her.

One of the ladies at the lone occupied table laughs, jolting Grace back into the present.

A moment later, the front door of the hotel swings open, and Grace smooths her hands over the skirt of her apron, her stomach a knot of anticipation. Even if it’s Chuck, she’s not going back to the kitchen today. She hates conflict, but she’s had enough practice running away to know it doesn’t solve problems.

“May I have a table, please?”

It’s Lucie Clay, the woman from Tess’s party.

Petite yet strong, Lucie can ride a horse, lasso a steer, and run a ranch as well as any man. With her heart-shaped face and eyes framed with dark lashes, she’s a beauty to boot. Staring at her now, Grace understands why Tess spent the majority of the party trying to push Chuck and Lucie together.

Lost in remembering their animated conversations on the wide white porch, Grace forgets she’s supposed to be a waitress.

From the front desk, Ronnie clears his throat, a not-so-subtle reminder that she has a job to do.

“Here you go,” she says at last.

Lucie doesn’t seem to notice the awkward pause before Grace manages to gesture her toward a table. It’s her favorite spot in the dining room, a sun-drenched table for two by the window, the one she reserves for Chuck every afternoon around this time. There were other tables. Directing her there had been an accident but it’s too late to change her mind now.

Suspicion lodges in Grace’s throat like a lump. Lucie doesn’t usually come to the hotel to eat.

She knows Lucie wants the job as Tess’s new foreman; Grace had heard her speaking about it at the party. But the way she latched onto Chuck’s arm makes Grace think she wants more than the ranch.

Had Lucie come to warn her away from Chuck? Did Tess send her as some sort of ridiculous test to secure her dream job? Or worst of all, was she meeting him here for lunch? The idea of being so quickly replaced by Chuck after their date creates a stabbing sensation in the vicinity of her heart.

For weeks, they’ve danced around each other in an attraction she believed was mutual. He invited her to lunch, he asked her to go riding, and he’s been to the orphanage to visit Virginia, their very healthy new milk cow, more often than a busy veterinarian should.  
  
_Act normal, _she chides herself_._ “Coffee?” She lifts a silver pot filled with fresh brew in Lucie’s direction.

“Thank you.” The other woman settles into her chair and smooths the dark brown braid pinned against her nape. “We haven’t officially met; I’m Lucie Clay.” She sticks out her hand with a generous smile, and the dimple in her right cheek makes Grace smile in spite of herself.

Grace sets down the pot and grasps her offered hand, surprised to find it warm. What had she expected, ice crystals for fingers? “Would you like to order?”

“I was thinking about pie.” Lucie nibbles her lower lip, considering. “Is there any peach?”

Grace covers the rising color in her cheeks by pretending to study her order pad. “Not today.”

“Too bad. There was a delicious peach pie at Tess’s party. Did you see it?” The pretty dimple on her cheek seems to dance. “I assumed Ronnie’s chef was making them for the hotel.”

Grace glares, wishing she had a matched set of those pies right now—one to spill down Lucie’s jade green dress, and another to hurl into Tess Stewart’s smug face. Obviously she’d seen the pie. She was serving, wasn’t she? Lucie had to be taunting her, and the sting of humiliation burned her throat.

“Lou made the desserts for the party. I actually made that pie, though.” She sucks on the inside of her cheek, stopping herself from saying more. Causing a scene at the hotel is a bad idea.

“I see.” The dimple appears again. “Does Chuck happen to like peach pie?”

“Yeah, it’s his favorite,” Grace says, thrown by the question. Wouldn’t Lucie know his preferences? They’d grown up together; her eavesdropping had taught her that much.

There she goes again, letting her mouth get her into trouble. The matron at the Hannigan Orphanage was fond of complaining that Grace had an answer for everything. “Ask Grace Bennett,” she used to tell the other girls when they asked for a cookie or a special privilege. Of course, Grace had no more power over the situation than anyone else, and it only made the other girls hate her.

“Chocolate cake it is!” Lucie claps her hands. “Bring yourself a slice, too, and join me. It’s my treat.” She waves at the empty seat across the table.

Lucie’s no-nonsense tone is more order than invitation. No wonder she and Tess get along so well; they’re two of a kind. “I thought you wanted pie,” Grace hedges. “There’s apple and cherry. Besides, I’m not on break.”

Lucie looks around the quiet dining room and laughs. The ladies from the lone occupied table are gone, a generous tip tucked between the bud vase and the salt shaker. Even Ronnie is nowhere in sight. “Come on,” she coaxes, “just for a minute?”

The challenge is too tempting to resist, so Grace heads to the kitchen, returning in minutes with a pot of fresh coffee and two thick wedges of dark chocolate cake.

She’d forgotten a coffee cup for herself, but Lucie plucks one table behind them and takes over as hostess, pouring first for Grace, then a refill for herself. “So, have you seen Chuck lately?”

Grace cradles her cup in her palms, savoring its warmth. Lucie is so self-assured, and there’s no way Grace will admit she’s spent the last three days avoiding Chuck.

She was, without a doubt, the worst horsewoman in Brookfield, but Chuck wanted to go riding with her and she wanted to learn to ride as much as she wanted to make him happy. Her only riding lesson had been the crash course Lillian gave her the day before their date. She smiles to herself, remembering how Chuck praised her lackluster abilities.

Right when she thought she was going to fall off Smokey’s broad back, he surprised her with a picnic lunch at the end of the riding trail. Unfortunately, bears made off with the contents of the picnic basket before they were able to enjoy it, but Grace’s heart soared at the kind gesture. When they ponied up on the ride home, her arms around his waist and her heart thudding against his back, she’d felt like a princess. 

“Not exactly,” she answers, picking at her cake. “I’ve been busy here and with the orphanage. Why?”

“Nothing, it just explains some things.” Lucie tries and fails to hide her smile behind the rim of her cup.

“Yeah, like what?” The impatience in her voice is bordering on rude, but she hates mind games. She wishes Lucie would circle her wagons around to the point of her visit.

“Chuck’s been as ornery as a hungry bear since the party. He’s snapping at everyone at the ranch; _even_ Tess.” Lucie smothers a giggle. “I figured you had something to do with his sour mood. Turns out I was right.”

Lucie sounds awed that anyone would say a cross word to Tess Stewart, and Grace barely resists the temptation to roll her eyes.

She gives Lucie a sharp look. “Why are you so interested in my friendship with Chuck?”

“I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s like a brother—an annoying, know-it-all brother.” Lucie forks a bit of cake and holds it aloft. “I’m not sweet on him if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Grace toys with her spoon. It’s exactly what she’s thinking, and now she doesn’t know what to say. To her, Chuck’s kind brown eyes and strong, capable hands are anything but brotherly. He makes her palms sweat and her heart race. Even the way he cares for the animals in town displays a warmth and sincerity uncommon among other men.

What girl in her right mind _wouldn’t_ want Chuck? “You still didn’t answer my question.”

Lucie shrugs. “I’ve never seen him act this way before. He doesn’t even usually come to these parties, though it hasn’t stopped Tess from pushing him. He hates to socialize, but he stayed for you. I even gave him my empty cup and a shove in your direction so he would have an excuse to seek you out. Didn’t you notice him looking at you all evening?”

Heat stains her cheeks. No, Grace hadn’t noticed. After she shooed him away, she was too busy trying _not_ to watch him to notice.

“He couldn’t stop staring at you. He couldn’t stop talking about you, either. How amazing you are, how you’re working here at the hotel and running the orphanage. Even my father was impressed, and Lord knows he’s stingy with the compliments. Anyone can see Chuck’s crazy about you.”

Grace’s heart melts like ice cream on a hot sidewalk. “He said all that?”

“He didn’t have to,” Lucie gives her a level look. “The peach pie you baked. It was for him, wasn’t it? That’s why you were crying when you left the ranch.”

“Forget it.” Grace lowers her head, doubly embarrassed to know anyone but Lillian had seen her upset. “No one cries over pie,” she says. “That would be stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if you’re hurt. But maybe it’s not fair to be mad at Chuck when he didn’t know?”

The lack of censure is unexpected, and Grace looks up. “I’m not mad at him.”

“But you’re pushing him away. Why?”

Grace takes a deep breath. “It’s complicated,” she admits. Her checkered history of running away from bad orphanages and a Mountie report claiming she’d stolen $200 were strikes against her. She’d never stolen a nickel, but it didn’t matter.

An image of Tess eyeing her distrustfully marches through her mind, and Grace dabs her wet eyes with the ruffled blue sleeve of her dress. “People have a way of judging the package and never taking a look inside.”

Chuck was one of the few who had bothered to peel back Grace’s tattered outer layers. What would happen if he delved deeper, closer? When he truly knew her, what if he didn’t like what he saw?

Her embarrassment has faded, but the fear behind it remains.

“If they can’t see you for you, they’re not worth your time,” Lucie says, raising her pointy chin. “It’s all right to fall off your horse, but don’t stay down in the dirt, Grace. Try again.”

“You might not suggest that if you knew how bad my riding lessons were going.” Grace laughs to cover her unease. “Or are we still talking about pie?”

“I’m all thumbs in the kitchen,” Lucie says, smiling, “but if you were to bake another peach pie, I could help you make sure Chuck gets it.”

“Thank you for that, and for the cake. I’m really glad you came in today,” Grace says, surprised to realize she means every word.

She’d believed the worst of Lucie, and she was happy to be wrong. At the orphanage, she was always encouraging the children to believe the best in each other. Maybe it was time for her to start following her own advice, to brush herself off and take a risk?

“I’m glad, too. I hope you’ll consider me a friend now, Grace.”

Grace smiles in agreement, and after paying for their cake and coffee, Lucie rises from the table.

The hotel door opens, shattering the early afternoon quiet. Parties of two and four begin to file in, all clamoring for a table. Before Grace knows it, Lucie has disappeared through the open door and the small, hectic dining room is giving new meaning to the term lunch rush.

“Table for one?” Grace asks a pair of dusty brown boots. She’s been flying between tables for thirty minutes and she’s a bit out of breath.

“Yes, unless you’re finally agreeing to join me for lunch today.”

Grace looks up at the sound of a familiar voice. It’s Chuck with his hat in hand, a sweet yet uncertain smile on his handsome face.

“Hey, cowboy.” She grins, her heart giving a tell-tale flip. “As luck would have it, your favorite table’s free.”

“Cowboy, huh?” He sets his hat on the now-cleared table she’d shared with Lucie a little while earlier.

“I figure since you’re always helping cows, the nickname suits you.” Around them, the dining room buzzes with chatter and the clink of cutlery against plates, but at the moment, Chuck is the only customer who matters.

“So it does.” Those mesmerizing chocolate eyes sparkle, and something light and easy passes between them. “Do I get to come up with a nickname for you now?”

She laughs, feeling a mixture of relief and delight to chat with him in their comfortable way. “You can come back tomorrow and try some out on me. I’ll even join you for lunch.”

He pretends to pout. “Why not right now?”

“Tomorrow’s better. We’re having a special here at the hotel,” she says, silently vowing to sneak across the street to catch Joe before he closes the general store. “Trust me; you don’t want to miss it.”

He frowns. “Uncle Ronnie doesn’t have a special on the menu.”

“This one’s only for you. Peach pie, made by yours truly. It’s your favorite, right?”

Chuck reaches for her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, then turns it over to trace her palm with his thumb. “That it is.”

###

**Author's Note:**

> Chuck and Grace of When Hope Calls have my heart! Please let me know how you like this story. I have plans for a few more.


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